


Lionhearts

by MaddKat



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Mainly Jaxia-centric, This might end up being a longfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-06-15
Packaged: 2018-10-25 23:28:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10774710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaddKat/pseuds/MaddKat
Summary: Sometimes life is good. Sometimes things, while not ideal, are working out, finally.Sometimes everything falls to pieces, and you're left scrambling to gather up the wreckage, trying to put it all back together without falling apart yourself.And sometimes...you get a second chance.





	1. Chapter 1

“Jax, pull up!”

“I am! Get the shields up!”

Raynia flicked a few switches on the console, cringing as a blaster shot zinged by inches from the front of the shuttle. “Shields up. We’ve got to get out of here, we can only take one hit before—”

_CRASH!_

Jax and Raynia lurched forward in their seats as an impact to the rear of the shuttle sent it lurching wildly. Jax hauled on the controls, only barely missing a bit of debris.

“Shields have failed!” Raynia exclaimed. Behind them, Leola started to cry. Jax and Raynia glanced back at her, reassuring themselves she was okay. A roar snapped their attention back to the front; another damaged ship hurtled by, careening towards the planet below. Smoke filled their view, and Jax drove the ship up, hoping desperately to get out of the way.

The smoke cleared, just in time to reveal yet _another_ ship speeding past. Raynia yelped; there was no time: the other ship clipped the top of the shuttle, sending a shudder through the entire frame. Leola cried louder.

“Try to plot us a course out of here!” Jax said, dodging small space rocks jarred loose from the blaster fire. They’d accidentally gotten in the middle of some kind of firefight; neither wanted to say it aloud, but it looked like the Galra versus someone else. Jax hadn’t been able to figure out who that someone else was yet, nor did he care. His ship was battered, the shields were non-functioning, and any more hits and they’d join the other destroyed ships on the desert planet’s surface.

“Haul to starboard twenty degrees,” Raynia said. Jax complied just as Raynia’s flight plan popped up on the screen. She swiped furiously at the controls on the virtual display, compensating every second as more and more ships got in their way. Another shot zinged their port side, and Jax flinched as the engines started to make very loud _whub-whub-whub_ sounds.

“Just get us out of this system,” Raynia said, shoving her hair out of her eyes. “There’s a peaceful system not far from here.” She swallowed. “We’ll land there. Get us out of here.”

“Working on it,” Jax replied through his teeth. Movement to his right startled him, and he looked down near his chair. “Leola! Get back in your seat!”

Leola looked up at him, tears glistening in the emergency lights. Raynia unbuckled her seatbelt and scooped up their almost-two-year-old, swiftly setting her back in the seat behind them. Leola clutched her green lion, and Raynia buckled her back in the seat.

“Don’t touch the buckle. Sit still,” Raynia ordered.

“I’ve got to call for help,” Jax said, noting the failing engine. “We don’t have enough power to leave this system.”

“Code the transmission,” Raynia replied, hurrying back to her seat. She stood for a second longer, flicking switches on the communications console.

“Raynia, sit down—”

Sudden impact sent the ship hurtling to the right, tilting it almost sideways. Raynia cried out as she fell; Jax reached out wildly to catch her, but she fell hard onto the floor and lay still.

“Raynia!” Jax exclaimed, leveling the ship. Raynia didn’t move.

Jax opened a channel. “Attention all peaceful starcraft. This is Deltan shuttle two-niner alpha. We mean no harm, we are a neutral party, and we’ve been hit. Requesting assistance.” Jax had been fervently hoping the “someone else” fighting the Galra were _not_ other Deltans, but at this point, he didn’t care.

No response came.

Jax frowned. The _whub-whub-whub_ suddenly stopped, and the readouts showed total engine failure.

_Oh, no._

“Attention all peaceful starcraft, this is Deltan shuttle—”

A blast hit their ship dead on, and all went dark.

* * *

 

“Ada! _Ada! Mama!_ ”

Leola’s screaming voice slowly coaxed Jax’s eyes open. The console lights flickered above him; Jax blinked, confused as to why he was looking _up_ at the control panel. He tried to raise his head, tried to move, but pain shot through his skull, and he fell back with a groan onto the floor.

_What’s that smell…?_

“Ada! Mama!”

_Smoke._

Jax jerked up to a sitting position, wincing and hissing through his teeth at the throbbing in his head. He grasped the pilot’s chair he’d fallen out of, shoving himself to his feet. Raynia still lay motionless by him. Leola sat in her seat, crying and craning her neck to look behind her.

_The ship is on fire._

Jax scrambled back to Leola, unbuckling her seatbelt. “Hang on to me,” he ordered. Leola clung to his neck, and he held her with one arm as he hurried back to Raynia. He dropped to his knees next to her. “Raynia. _Raynia!_ ”

He managed to roll her onto her back, and her eyes flickered open. She winced, putting a hand to her head.

“Raynia, get up. The ship is on fire. We’ve got to get the suits on and get out of here,” Jax said. He leaned over her and opened a cupboard, pulling out three space suits. He glanced at the console; oddly enough, despite the readouts showing a massive hole in the upper half of the cockpit, the ship wasn’t losing oxygen.

“Attention Deltan shuttle two-niner alpha!” A voice crackled over the speakers. Jax ignored it, focusing on getting the suits untangled

“Get out of that shuttle! Now!”

Jax tore his gaze from the suits to the main viewscreen. Raynia sat up and squinted through the smoke. A grey wall and the seam of an airlock door replaced the stars;they were inside another ship, though whether it was friend or foe, they knew not.

Raynia looked at Jax. “We don’t have a choice,” she whispered.

“Hurry!” came the voice. “That shuttle is going to explode! We can’t get the door open from the outside! Open the door and get out of there!”

Somehow the voice seemed oddly familiar. Jax pushed himself to his feet, Leola still balanced on his hip. He grabbed Raynias arm, helping her to stand as well. An alarm started to blare on the console, and Jax hurried his little family toward the back of the ship. He slapped the button for the door, and it slid open with a painful creak.

“Hurry!” came the same voice, clearer now that it wasn’t being filtered through static. Jax and Raynia stepped out of the shuttle and immediately felt the wash of heat on their face. The engines were on fire, and he saw the flames licking dangerously close to the fuel tanks.

“Run!” Jax exclaimed, grabbing Raynia’s hand and holding Leola tight. He forced his trembling legs to move, to lead his family away from the imminent explosion.

“Over here!”

Jax looked ahead to see a figure standing in a doorway, beckoning them on. They stumbled through the door and the person slammed it shut. Jax swayed on his feet, turning just in time to see his shuttle explode, sending shrapnel slamming against the door.

“Are you guys okay?” the person asked. Jax’s legs trembled, and he turned to the person. He blinked, startled.

“Please take her,” he whispered, pushing Leola into the arms of the Red Paladin before he collapsed.

* * *

 

Pidge watched as Raynia scrubbed at the dirt on her face, using some of the special soap Allura had stashed away for the occasional “girls’ day” that Pidge and the Princess sometimes had. Leola cooed, and Pidge glanced down at the baby she held in her lap. Leola smooshed her stuffed green lion against Pidge’s face, and Pidge laughed and tried to angle her face away. Leola giggled.

“Thank you, your highness,” Raynia said, drying her face off. Her eyes still had those tired lines underneath them, Pidge noted, but her face, though still pale, glowed a little more. Pidge’s mum used to call it “pregnancy glow.” She felt a smile twitch on her face. She couldn’t help being excited for Raynia; the deltan woman had _another_ baby girl on the way. Pidge had elbowed Keith pretty hard when they’d seen that fact on Raynia’s biodata from the healing pod, and Raynia had informed them with a tired laugh that yes, this time she and Jax had already known.

The three women sat in Allura’s room, relaxing on all the pillows. Raynia reached over to one of the bowls of water on the nightstand, wet her fingers, and started to finger-comb her hair.

“Oh, may I do your hair?” Allura asked. Raynia froze, then nodded. Allura hopped up and stood behind Raynia, combing her long brown hair gently. Raynia remained stiff for a moment, then her shoulders slumped a little and she seemed to relax. A soft smile spread across her face as she looked at Leola in Pidge’s lap. The baby had curled up with her lion held against her chest and had started to doze off.

“Are you feeling better?” Pidge asked. Raynia had been pale and shaky after getting out of the healing pod, but had attributed it to morning sickness.

“Yes, thank you,” Raynia replied, her native language translated through Pidge’s earpiece. Raynia looked down at her pants, picking at the stitching.

“I’m sorry about your ship,” Pidge said. They’d had to expel all of the wreckage out of the airlock, then shoot it to bits so there weren’t huge chunks of space debris floating around. The radioactive fuel had leaked everywhere, making it impossible to save _anything_ from the ship. Jax and Raynia had watched the destruction, flinching whenever their ship had been hit. They’d stood stiffly afterwards, as if in shock. Raynia had then wiped her eyes and taken Leola from Jax. Pidge wondered at that; they hadn’t bothered to try and comfort each other at _all_.

Allura had suggested Raynia get some rest, and Jax had kissed Raynia once on the forehead before they parted ways—Jax with Shiro, Lance, Hunk, and Keith, and Raynia with Allura and Pidge—but he hadn’t said much.

“We’ll find something else,” Raynia replied. She frowned, then shook her head.

“Raynia…” Allura began. She tied off Raynia’s hair—she’d braided the front bit, and the braid swept into a ponytail tied at the nape of Raynia’s neck. Two tendrils of hair framed her delicately pointed ears. Allura sat back with Raynia and Pidge, nodded once in approval at her work, then reached out and took Raynia’s hand. “Raynia, besides the shuttle, and I’m very sorry about that…is everything okay?”

To everyone’s surprise, the Deltan’s breath hitched and she pressed a fist to her mouth. “No,” she whispered. She wiped her eyes and took a breath. Leola’s eyes opened, and she crawled out of Pidge’s lap towards her mother. Raynia held her close, kissing her hair.

“Mama cry?” Leola asked.

“No, baby,” Raynia soothed. She swept Leola’s hair out of her face, and the baby snuggled against her and shut her eyes. Raynia took a breath and looked up at Allura and Pidge. “My apologies,” she said.

“It’s all right,” Allura said, and Pidge nodded.

“I’m…I’m not sure how to explain it, or if it would be appropriate to do so,” Raynia said.

“Well, whatever it is you’re upset about, we want to help you out with it,” Pidge said. Raynia looked at her, a tiny, grateful smile on her face.

“Jax and I…I don’t know what’s happening, but…I’m afraid he’s going to leave,” Raynia said.

Pidge frowned. “Raynia, he wouldn’t do that.”

“I…I know. And he’s said as much.” Raynia shook her head. “But…he’s been so tense lately. And I told him about our second youngling, and he was happy, but also sad.”

“Why?” Allura asked.

“Because he wants to go home,” Raynia said. “We both do. We had a happy life, for about six months, before Leola was born. We had a little apartment, and he had a good job, and…” Raynia swallowed. “And then Leola was stolen from us, and we lost everything.”

“But you got your daughter back. That’s the important thing, isn’t it?” Pidge asked.

“Yes, of course. We were holding out hope that maybe the case would close, that we would be pardoned somehow and get to come home. At any rate, we were hoping to wait, at the latest, until I’m technically old enough before we went back. But…now we have another youngling on the way, which only hurts our case.”

“Why would Jax leave you, though?” Allura asked. “You mean the world to him. Even if he doesn’t say it, it’s written in his eyes.”

“I know,” Raynia whispered. “It’s an irrational fear, nothing more.”

“Do you get that a lot? The irrational fears, I mean,” Pidge asked softly, remembering how Raynia had gotten a psychiatric discharge from the Deltan military.

“Yes,” Raynia said, so quietly Pidge almost didn’t hear her. “And I fear it’s driving a wedge between myself and Jax.” She swallowed. “I just want to go home,” she whispered. “Leola was an infant when we left, and our new daughter will never even see Delta. There are white trees that bloom with blue flowers, and rivers and forests…it’s so beautiful there…” She shut her eyes tight.

Allura rested a hand on Raynia’s arm. “I understand,” she said softly.

“Raynia, Keith and I have been together for almost two years, and sometimes we fight,” Pidge said. Raynia opened her eyes and looked at her. Allura, too, looked at Pidge.

“Sometimes we say really hurtful things to each other,” Pidge continued, “and sometimes I’m so focused on finding my dad that Keith and I, well, we kinda grow distant.” Pidge shrugged. “When that happens, one of us notices and makes the other sit down and talk about whatever’s bugging us. And…we apologize and move on. We both want to go home to Earth, too. But…we’ve sort of made this a second home.”

“I think you and Jax are still hanging on to what was, rather than coming to grips with what is,” Allura said. “It might be time to let go of going back to Delta. You’re going to have to build a new home, together.”

“I understand,” Raynia said. She wiped her eyes. “Thank you, both of you.”

* * *

 

Keith lunged with his sword, _almost_ getting in a hit. But Jax dodged and struck with his staff, forcing Keith to duck before he got hit in the face. The timer buzzed and both warriors stood panting in the middle of the training deck.

“Two victories for you, two for me, and one tie,” Keith said.

“You fight well, Keith,” Jax replied. “Raynia is better than I am with the swords; she would be able to give you better advice than I could.”

“You do well indeed, Keith,” Raynia’s voice from the doorway startled Keith and Jax. She strode into the room, her hands in her jacket pockets. She looked a lot calmer than she’d looked earlier, and Keith glanced back to the doorway and exchanged a smile with Pidge, who’d followed behind.

“Might I show you some tips, though?” Raynia asked.

“Raynia,” Jax said, a warning tone in his voice.

“We’re not going to spar,” Raynia replied, and Keith noted the edge to her words. Jax sighed and lowered his staff, stepping back.

“There’s training swords over here,” Keith said, leading Raynia over to the far wall. He opened the cabinet, and Raynia grabbed two samurai swords. She tested their balance in her hands, smiling a little. Pidge entered the room, standing several arm lengths away.

Raynia regarded Keith’s sword, then shrugged and put one of the samurai swords away. “I usually fight with two, but that’s just a personal preference,” she explained. She stepped back to the middle of the room. “Attack. But slow,” she instructed Keith. Keith did so, and Raynia blocked. “You want to watch the angle of your sword…”

They went through several moves like that, Keith attacking and parrying in slow-motion, while Raynia explained the techniques. Jax stood nearby with Pidge, watching silently.

Suddenly Jax stirred, as if remembering something. He looked at Pidge. “Where’s Leola?”

“She’s napping in our quarters,” Raynia replied, not breaking step.

Jax frowned. “Did you lock the door?”

Raynia finished the strike and looked at him. “Yes, of course I—” Her eyes widened, and she looked at Pidge. “Did I?”

Pidge shrank in on herself a little, and Keith felt a little sorry for her, what with Jax and Raynia staring intently at her. “I think you did, yes,” Pidge said.

“I’ll go check,” Jax said. He left the training room, putting away the staff before he did.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Keith said. He offered Raynia a smile, which she returned, briefly. She twirled the sword a few times, looking lost in thought.

I’ll go check, too,” she said, sheathing the sword and looking at the door.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Pidge said. Keith nodded and deactivated his bayard and stepped closer to Pidge.

“I suppose,” Raynia said, fiddling with the sheath.

Running footsteps interrupted them, and Jax stuck his head in the door, out of breath.

“What?” Raynia asked, tensing.

“She’s gone.”

* * *

 

Raynia ran behind Jax towards the Lions’ hangars. Pidge had said the security cameras had recorded Leola toddling down that way. Raynia’s heart thudded in her throat at the thought of her daughter amongst those giant metal robots.

They tore through the hangar doors, and Jax skidded to a stop. Raynia crashed into him, and Jax reached out and caught her. He stood still, gazing with wide eyes at the five Lions parked there, the low hum of machinery almost sounding like purring.

“Jax, come on,” Raynia said, stepping past him. The Yellow Lion shifted ever so slightly, and Raynia flinched. She swallowed. “Leola!” she called, though her voice was no more than a squeak.

“ _LEOLA!”_ Jax called, his voice booming through the hangars.

Nothing.

Raynia check behind each Lion, then sighed. “I don’t think she’s in here,” she said, her shoulders slumping.

“She could be _anywhere_ in this castle,” Jax said, his voice hard. “It could take us hours to find her.” He looked at Raynia, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

“I said I was sorry,” Raynia snapped.

“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that our daughter is lost in a _massive castle!”_ Jax retorted, facing her fully. Raynia fell silent, and Jax shook his head. “You’re always doing stuff like this,” he muttered, turning to go.

“Excuse me?” Raynia demanded. She caught up to Jax and stood in front of him. “Who helped you pilot that shuttle for almost _two years?_ ”

Jax paused and clamped his jaw shut, looking like he wanted to say something more, but holding himself back.

“What did you mean?” Raynia asked, crossing her arms. Jax remained silent a moment.

“I didn’t mean anything by it,” he said finally.

“Obviously _something’s_ weighing on your mind, or else you wouldn’t have said it,” Raynia shot back.

“You think?” Jax said, his voice sharp again. “We just lost everything _, again._ That shuttle was our home, and we just watched it blow up in our faces!”

Raynia’s eyes narrowed. “You’re finally calling it a home, only after it exploded.”

“What?”

“You’ve been distant, tense, you barely talk anymore,” Raynia said. She uncrossed her arms. “I’m _sorry_ we’re having another youngling. I didn’t want it. I wanted to go home. And, Jax…” She paused, feeling her throat close up and tears sting her eyes. “We’re not going to go home to Delta, Jax. I don’t think we’ll ever get to go home.” Raynia took a breath. “Is that what you’ve been wanting? To go home? Because I want it, too, and we’re never going to get it, and…”

“Raynia…”

“Guys!” Pidge’s voice crackled over the loudspeakers. “Leola’s in the Red Lion.”

As if on cue, the Red Lion moved, lowering its head and opening its mouth. Jax glanced at Raynia, then carefully stepped inside. Raynia followed him up the ramp to find Leola curled up in the pilot’s chair, fast asleep, clutching her lion.

“Come here, Little One,” Jax said gently, scooping up the baby. Leola stirred a little, then nestled her head on Jax’s shoulder. Jax turned to Raynia.

“Don’t ever be sorry for bearing our children,” he said. Raynia looked down at her boots. Jax stepped forward and tilted her head up towards him.

“I _do_ want to go home,” he said, “and it kills me to know that we might never get to.” He sighed. “This life is not what I wanted, neither for myself, nor you and Leola and the new little one. I want to give you _so much more_ , but I can’t. Please understand that, Raynia. I would _never_ leave you, no matter how much I want to go back. I just…I want what’s best for you, and the little ones. That’s all.”

“I’m sorry,” Raynia whispered.

“ _I’m_ sorry, too. I’m sorry we’re in this mess, and I’m sorry I’ve been distant,” Jax replied. “I’d just been thinking…is this it? Is this all we’re going to have? A stolen shuttle, a warrant for our arrest…and we don’t even have the shuttle anymore.”

Raynia looked at him, unable to think of anything to say.

“But it doesn’t matter,” Jax said. “I have you, and I have Leola, and we have the new little one on the way.” Jax shrugged. “I want what’s best for all of us, but at the end of it all, as long as you three are healthy and happy, then I am, too.” He took a breath. “We’ll just have to find a place to build a new home, and let go of going back to Delta, I suppose. Let go of that once and for all.”

Raynia felt her eyes fill with tears, and Jax’s eyes glistened a little, also. Jax wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Raynia’s breath hitched. She shut her eyes, feeling her tears slide down her face and onto Jax’s shirt.

“We’ll be all right,” Jax whispered, his voice broken and wavering. But there was a surety to his grasp, to his posture, that Raynia tried to mimic as she held him close.

Leola fussed and Raynia pulled back. “You hungry?” she said to the baby, taking her from Jax. She looked up at Jax, smiling a little, and he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Suddenly he froze.

“We’re inside a Voltron Lion, without the Paladin.”

Raynia gaped at him, then they both turned and ran out of the Lion. Keith and Pidge dashed into the hangars at the same time, and a wide grin spread across Pidge’s face.

“You found her!” she exclaimed.

“Yes, we did.” Jax smiled down at Raynia and Leola, and Raynia reached out and took his hand. A gentle, knowing smile spread across the Paladins’ faces before Keith mentioned something about dinner and Hunk’s cooking.


	2. Chapter 2

Jax heard footsteps outside his and Raynia’s quarters, the sound pulling him from sleep. He opened his eyes, stifling a groan. He’d been _trying_ for the past few months to get up at the same time as the rest of the Paladins. But for some reason, despite going to bed at the same time as the rest of the team, he, Raynia, and Leola would remain awake for several hours before falling asleep, and wake up later than everyone else.

“We should get up,” Jax murmured to Raynia.

“Mm,” Raynia replied, shifting a little and snuggling further under the covers.

“Ada?” Leola squeaked. Jax pushed himself up to a sitting position and waved at Leola, who stood gripping the bars of the crib Jax and Hunk had built for her.

“I hungry!” Leola said, bouncing a little.

“Shh,” Jax said, holding a finger to his lips. He crawled out of the bed and tucked the blanket back around Raynia. He yawned and stretched, his eyes falling shut. He didn’t _ever_ remember being this tired, except during the most brutal days of command school. But he and Raynia weren’t about to complain; the Paladins and the Alteans had been more than generous, allowing them to stay aboard the castle ship until the baby was born.

Jax tied his hair back and scooped up Leola. He kissed her on the forehead, and she giggled. He took her to the adjacent bathroom, cleaned her up and changed her, and washed the grit out of his own eyes while she sat on the counter, before returning to his and Raynia’s room.

Usually Raynia would be up by now, but today she still lay sleeping, her dark hair splayed all over the pillow.

“Raynia?”

“Mm.”

“I’m taking Leola to get breakfast.”

“All right,” Raynia whispered. Jax leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Her skin felt a little warm, but he passed it off as being from the baby and the blanket drawn up to her neck.

“See you in a bit?”

“…Yes…”

Jax squeezed her hand and left.

* * *

 

“I sit wif Keef.” Leola squirmed out of Jax’s lap at the breakfast table, plopping on the floor before Jax could catch her and toddling the few feet to Keith’s adjacent chair.

“Leola, no—” Jax said, putting his spoon down and reaching for her. Leola paused, having held up her arms for Keith to pick her up, and looked back at Jax.

“It’s all right,” Keith said, pushing his empty plate away and scooping up the baby. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Keef!” Leola exclaimed, giggling. She pushed her hand against Keith’s mouth, and Keith laughed, trying to angle his head away.

“Leola, manners,” Jax warned, his native language translated automatically through the translator clipped to the collar of his shirt. He usually spoke English when he was around the Paladins, but sometimes it was an effort to remember the right words, and so Pidge had programmed a couple of translators for him and Raynia.

Leola withdrew her hand and played with a lock of Keith’s hair instead. Near-silent footsteps drew Jax’s attention to the door, and he offered a smile and a half-wave to Raynia. She smiled back as she entered the room, her translator in her hand.

“’Morning, Raynia!” Pidge said, and the other Paladins and the Alteans echoed the greeting.

“Good…morning,” Raynia said hesitantly in English. Pidge frowned a little, and Raynia sheepishly held up her broken translator. She sat next to Pidge. “I…” she began in English, but stopped, frowned, and looked at Jax. “I dropped it, and it broke,” she said in Deltan. Jax repeated her words, in English.

“Ah. No biggie,” Pidge said, and Jax dutifully translated. Raynia appeared to relax, and she smiled, though her eyes remained tired.

“I tried a new recipe for breakfast,” Hunk said, dishing up Raynia a plate. “It looks weird, but it’s actually okay.”

Again, Jax translated, and Raynia nodded. She smirked at Jax. “That’s what I said when I married you,” she said in Deltan, and Jax bit back a laugh.

“Mama!” Leola exclaimed, climbing off Keith’s lap and hurrying over to Raynia.

“Hey, baby,” Raynia said softly, picking her up. She brushed a bit of hair out of Leola’s face.

Jax finished his breakfast, listening to the Paladins talk and translating when necessary to Raynia. He noticed that she ate slowly, her head resting in her hand and her elbow on the table. She put her spoon down and massaged her head with her hand.

Jax clicked off his translator. “Raynia,” he whispered. Raynia flicked her gaze up at him.

“You okay?” Jax asked.

Raynia shrugged. “Yes,” she replied softly. “Just tired.”

“Hm.” Jax studied her for a second more, but she ignored him and went back to eating.

“Raynia, if you want to come to the lab, I can fix your translator,” Pidge said.

Jax translated, and Raynia nodded, smiling a little at Pidge. “Yes, I will come with you,” she replied.

* * *

 

A few hours later, Pidge and Raynia stood in the room above the training deck, looking down at the maze. Keith and Jax were in the maze, in different sections, and it was a race between Paladins and Deltans as to who could get through the maze faster.

“Keith, left, then two steps forward, then take a right,” Pidge instructed.

“Copy that,” Keith replied.

“Jax, two steps forward, then…” Raynia frowned.

“Done. Left or right, Raynia?” Jax asked.

“Left…No! Go right!” Raynia cringed as Jax ran into the invisible wall and yelped.

“Sorry!” Raynia called, her face flushing. She cleared her throat; it was starting to hurt to talk. “Go right again, then three steps forward.”

Jax obeyed, and the rest of the exercise passed without a hitch, though Keith just barely beat Jax.

“Ha!” Pidge exclaimed. “Good job, Keith!”

“You too, Pidge! Come on down and we’ll switch.” Keith and Jax exchanged a nod and a good-natured smile before heading up to the observation platform.

“Next up, Pidge and Keith versus Lance and Hunk!” Allura called from the lower deck.

Raynia stepped back to make room for Hunk. She stood with arms crossed, frowning at the display. She didn’t like messing up like that, and it was such an easy mistake to avoid. She sighed. This had happened a lot when she’d been pregnant with Leola: she’d left dinner to burn, the windows wide open during a rain storm…

Her head started to _pound,_ and she sat down in a chair in the back of the room. Jax entered the observation deck just as the Paladins started the exercise.

“My arm kind of hurts from that wall,” he teased Raynia quietly.

“Sorry,” Raynia said again, resting her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, looking down at the floor.

“You sure you’re okay?” Jax whispered, putting a gentle hand on her back.

Raynia sighed. “I’m not feeling so great.”

“What hurts?”

“Just my head and throat…feeling a little nauseous, too.” Raynia shrugged and sat up straighter. “Probably just morning sickness again.”

Jax rested a hand against her forehead, frowning. “You feel a little warm.”

“My basal body temperature is up because of the baby,” Raynia said, leaning away.

“I think you should take your temperature.”

Raynia paused, then let her shoulders slump. Jax had a point. A fever while she was pregnant would be _very_ bad, she knew. “All right,” she murmured.

“Come on, we’ll go talk to Coran.”

Raynia stood, Jax took her hand, and they left the training deck.

* * *

 

Coran had scanned Raynia with a tricorder, and pronounced her not feverish at all. Raynia had shrugged at Jax and checked on Leola—Coran had been working on something and watching the baby nap while Jax and Raynia trained with the Paladins. They’d then thanked Coran and headed to the hangars, where an old, small spaceship lay in disarray.

They’d purchased the ship a month ago, and had made it a project to try and fix it. It was supposed to be their new home, once the baby was born, but “fixer upper” was too mild a term for the battered craft. A giant hole in the hull had meant replacing the entire quarter panel.

Jax was harnessed and dangling about halfway down the side of the ship, his feet braced against the ship. He drilled holes into pre-marked locations on the seam of the hull and a giant sheet of metal, then bolted the two pieces together with rivets. Raynia stood watching him, having finished drilling holes on the lower portion of the metal.

“Careful, Jax, you missed one,” Raynia said.

“Where?” Jax asked.

“There, by your left elbow.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Jax started to drill the bolt in, but it got stuck halfway. “Come on,” he muttered. He tried reversing the drill, to get the bolt out, but it refused to budge.

Suddenly something snapped. The metal tilted wildly, and Jax’s heart jumped to his throat as it slid out from under his feet. He yanked on the cord of his harness, hoisting himself up to the top of the ship. “Raynia!” he exclaimed, perching on top of ship and looking down at Raynia. The temporary fasteners that had been holding the sheet in place while Jax put the rivets in had broken, and Raynia had been right in the way. It crashed to the ground, the rivets Jax had drilled in snapping with the weight of the metal, and the sheet’s momentum making it wobble and sound like thunder.

“Raynia!” Jax called again.

“I’m okay!” Raynia replied. But her voice was tight and faint; Jax craned his neck, but he couldn’t see her. He waited for the metal to stop wobbling, then hoisted himself down.

“Where’d you go?” he asked, snapping off the harness.

“I’m here,” Raynia said. Jax looked under the ship; evidently she’d rolled out of the way. She perched on one knee, bracing herself against the struts, breathing fast. Jax ducked under the ship.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I got…really dizzy…” Raynia swallowed, trembling. “I lost my balance, and then the fasteners snapped, and I couldn’t get up in time run, so I just rolled under the ship.” She rubbed her forehead, grimacing.

“Come on out of here,” Jax said gently. He helped her stand, and she leaned heavily against him. He felt her forehead on their way. “Raynia, you’re burning up,” he murmured, every muscle tensing with alarm.

“That’s…not good…” Raynia’s legs suddenly gave out, and Jax found himself catching her before she fell to the floor. Her breath became quick, short gasps as Jax helped her sit against the wall.

“Just sit tight,” Jax said. He thought about getting help, but Raynia was in no condition to be left alone. He swallowed. “ _Help!”_

* * *

 

Two days passed. Two days of worry, while Raynia lay in the medbay burning with fever, and Jax being unable to do anything to help her. Pidge had briefly wanted to give her an anti-inflammatory, before being gently reminded by Allura that that could easily harm the baby. And they had no acetaminophen on the ship—which, Jax was assured, would help to bring the fever down and would likely _not_ harm the baby.

Now Pidge spent nearly every waking hour in her lab with Coran and occasionally Hunk, all of them trying their best to synthesize some acetaminophen. Jax was feeling a little lost—he’d spent the majority of the time between sitting with Raynia, playing with Leola, sparring with Keith or Shiro, working on his English while he and Hunk worked on the shuttle, or silently watching Pidge and Coran work. But it was a moot point, in all instances save the sparring. There was nothing he could do for Raynia, save dab her feverish forehead with a cool cloth and talk quietly with her when she was awake, or hold her hand while she tossed and turned from the nightmares. He found himself lost in thought when he tried to spend time with Leola, and she’d usually end up wandering over to Hunk or Lance or Keith, or whomever entered the lounge area, and play with them instead. And he wasn’t good at chemistry at all; he could only watch patiently while Pidge and Coran ran tests, and oftentimes he’d quietly step out of the room a few minutes later, worrying that he’d somehow distract them.

The second day drew to a close, but Leola didn’t seem to want to go to bed. Neither did Jax, despite yawning his head off all day. Allura had suggested earlier that he get some sleep while she watched the baby. So he’d taken her advice, only to stare at the ceiling of his and Raynia’s quarters for two hours before giving up and heading back to play with Leola.

“Hey, Jax?” Lance’s voice. The Blue Paladin stuck his head into the lounge. “Raynia’s awake again.” He shrugged. “I thought you’d want to know.”

“Thank you,” Jax said.

“Can I babysit Leola?” Lance asked, stepping into the room. “I’ve got a baby cousin, and she was about Leola’s age when we left Earth.” He smiled “Leola kinda looks like her. Y’know, without the ears and the face markings.”

Jax smiled. “You may watch her, thank you.” He stood to go, then paused. “What is your cousin’s name?”

“Tauriel,” Lance replied. “My aunt and uncle are huge Lord of the Rings nerds…ah, you probably have no idea what that is.”

Jax tilted his head. “Is it a book?”

“Yeah, and a movie trilogy. When Raynia gets better we should see how well it translates to Deltan.”

Jax nodded. “I see. Tauriel is a beautiful name.”

“Yeah, it is. Hey, if you’re looking for baby names, Lance is also a girl’s name.”

Jax feigned surprise. “Oh, is it?”

“Yeah!”

“It is not!” Hunk’s voice, from the hall.

“Aw, Hunk!” Lance exclaimed. Jax bit back a laugh and stepped away from the door, allowing Hunk to enter the room.

“They’re not naming their daughter _Lance_ ,” Hunk insisted. “Hey, Jax.”

Jax nodded at the Yellow Paladin. “I…should go,” he said. He smiled at his daughter. “Be good, Leola.”

“I be good!” Leola squeaked.

* * *

 

When Jax entered the medbay, Raynia lay curled up on her side, watching Allura bustling around in some cupboards nearby. Allura nodded at Jax and offered him an encouraging smile, which he returned. He pulled up a chair next to Raynia, and heard Allura leave, quietly shutting the door to the medbay.

“How’re you feeling?” Jax asked, feeling her forehead. Her skin still blazed under his palm, and he frowned.

“Pretty awful,” Raynia whispered, her eyes falling shut in a slow blink. She groaned a little and rubbed her head. “I wish this fever would break. This isn’t good for the baby…” She opened her eyes and looked at Jax. “How long have I had the fever?”

“About two days,” Jax replied.

Raynia’s eyes widened. “ _What?_ ”

“Shh, you’re going to be fine. Pidge is working on synthesizing some acetaminophen…which is their word for a drug that will reduce the fever but not harm the baby.”

Raynia shut her eyes and shook her head. “Jax…”

“Yes?”

Raynia looked at him. “What if we lose the baby?” She swallowed. “Jax, please be honest…What are Allura and Pidge and Coran saying about this? Am I…” She trailed off.

“You’re not going to die,” Jax said firmly, forcing a little smile. “You probably just caught a bug. We’re going to get this fever down in no time. And you can help by not stressing yourself out. Just relax, drink your fluids, and try to eat, okay? You’re eating for two, now.”

“Technically it’s more like one and a half…” Raynia murmured.

Jax put a gentle hand on the side of her face. “Either way, I think you’re a little delirious right now, _nin mel_. Try to relax and eat something. You’re going to be fine.”

Raynia didn’t say anything more, but her expression softened a little. She ate a bit of bread, drank some water, and then her eyes drifted shut again. Jax dabbed a cool rag over her face and neck, kissed her forehead, adjusted her blanket, and left the medbay.

He found the Paladins and Alteans all in the science lab. He paused, just barely hearing their conversation. Keith was trying to teach Leola the others’ names, it seemed.

“Say ‘Keith!’” Keith said.

“Keef!” Leola said.

Keith chuckled. “Close enough. Now, say ‘Pidge!’”

“Pig!”

“Hey!” Pidge sputtered, her protest drowned out by the others’ laughter.

“Oops, seems someone might need their undies changed.” Allura’s voice, and Jax assumed she’d started to leave to change Leola. He stepped into the room, intending to take over, but she’d already left with Leola.

“Hey, Jax,” Shiro said. He offered Jax a comforting smile, which Jax had to force himself to return.

“We’re _really_ close to getting a stable synthesis,” Pidge said, glancing at him from her computer.

“That is good,” Jax said. He felt a yawn coming on, and it was everything he could do to stifle it. “Is… there anything I can do?” he asked.

“Ah…not really,” Coran said. Jax nodded, and hid another yawn behind his hand. He drummed his fingertips on his thigh, wracking his brain for _anything_ he could do to be productive. But he couldn’t think, his mind sluggish in a half-fog of fatigue.

“Jax, could I talk to you for a moment?” Shiro asked.

Jax nodded, and followed the Black Paladin to a small room adjacent to the lab. He pulled his translator out of his pocket, at this point too tired to think about proper English. But Shiro shook his head, pointing to his own translator and putting the earbud in his ear. Jax smiled gratefully; he wouldn’t have the annoyance of hearing his own voice echoed at his collarbone. Coran followed them, closing the door behind him, and Jax stiffened, seeing the tense look on Coran’s face.

_They have bad news, Raynia is going to lose the baby, or worse—_

“Are you okay?” Shiro asked.

Jax blinked, completely taken aback. “Yes…I am fine,” he said.

“Nonsense,” Coran said, in Deltan. “You’re yawning your head off, and Hunk told us about the accident yesterday.”

Jax cringed a little. He’d been agitated, lost in thought; he hadn’t been paying attention when he’d been using the plasma drill, and had started a small fire and ruined his shirt

“I understand what it’s like to have someone you care about fall ill,” Coran said, gentler this time, and Shiro nodded.

“It’s not just that,” Jax said, feeling the weight of a million thoughts ready to spill out. He decided he didn’t care anymore about holding them back. He turned to Shiro. “You were a soldier, no?”

“I was.”

“And you lost men under your command, yes?”

A beat. “Yes.”

“I see the faces of the twenty men who died under my command, not every night, but often enough,” Jax said. “I know there was nothing I could do to save them. The Galra would have shown up on Ceti Alpha Nine even if the Red and Green Lions hadn’t dropped from the sky.” He paused. “I know I did my best, but my men died anyway.” He gestured vaguely to the medbay. “Raynia. She lies sick, and there is nothing I can do. Our home was a mere _shuttle,_ and there was nothing I could do to stop it from getting destroyed. We lost everything we had, for the second time. And…I do my best for her, for Leola, too, but… it is never enough. We are always two steps away from trouble, it seems. We have had no home for almost two years, and Leola will likely _never_ get to see her homeworld.” Jax shook his head. “I want them to be happy. I do my best, I do everything I can, but it is never enough, and I do not know what to do anymore.”

Shiro nodded slowly. “I understand,” he said. Jax looked at him.

“I had to come to grips with losing Pidge’s father and brother,” Shiro continued. “I know I did everything I could, but it wasn’t good enough, and I find myself wondering what I could have done differently.”

Jax nodded. “I fear…I fear the thing I could have done differently with Raynia was to not have married her. To have requested a different co-commander, and let her go her own way. Had she not met me…she would not be in this mess.”

“But you and her would not have had your beautiful daughter,” Coran said gently. Jax blinked and crossed his arms, fixing his gaze on the floor, feeling the walls holding back his pent-up emotion crumble a little. He was suddenly painfully aware of just how young he was in his people’s—and probably Coran’s—eyes. He was already the father of a two-year-old and another youngling yet to be born, and he was still three years under the minimum age requirement. Perhaps that inexperience, despite all the training, had led to the loss of his men, too.

“Life’s not about what you could have done differently, lad,” Coran continued. “It’s about what you do _now_. Sure, you make mistakes along the way, and sometimes everything just falls to pieces. It happens. But you grit your teeth and you _keep going_.”

Jax flicked his gaze up at the them. Coran pulled at his mustache a little, in that knowing way he had. “Jax, your wife loves you, plain and simple. It’s obvious that she’s happy to be with you. I think we’d all agree on that. She’s married to someone who won’t give up. Am I right?”

“Aye,” Jax replied. He pulled at his sleeve. “I…thank you, for your advice,” he said. “I apologize. It is not the Deltan way to succumb to despair.”

“It’s better that you talk about it, rather than leave it bottled up,” Shiro said. “It helps you to move on.”

Jax nodded. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders and back lessen.

“You’ll all be fine, Jax,” Coran said. “Raynia hasn’t had that fever for _quite_ long enough for it to be a huge risk yet. We’ll get that medicine synthesized in no time.”

“We’re here to help you, in any way we can,” Shiro added.

Jax smiled a little. “ _Le fael,_ ” he said.

Cries from the other room snapped their attention to the door. Allura had returned to the lab with Leola, and the baby was fussing mightily.

“Someone’s unhappy,” Jax said, stepping out of the room. Shiro and Coran followed. Leola spotted Jax and leaned out of Allura’s arms, reaching for him. Jax took her from Allura, and felt Leola cling to his neck, burying her face against his collarbone and crying.

“Shh, shh, Little One,” Jax soothed, running a gentle hand across her back. “You tired, baby?” He stepped over to the corner of the room, out of the way. Leola whimpered, her crying lessening a little. Jax yawned again, this time not even bothering to stifle it.

“Done!” Pidge exclaimed, drawing Jax’s attention back to the group. Lance whooped, before Keith hushed him and nodded severely towards the exhausted baby in Jax’s arms.

“I’ll give her the medicine,” Allura said. She picked up the pills and smiled warmly at Jax before she left.

“I cannot thank you enough, Pidge,” Jax said in English, moving back to the group. He felt relief wash over him, like warmth from a sunny day.

“Don’t mention it,” Pidge said, waving him off. She looked at Leola, who no longer cried and instead blinked tiredly at the others. “Jax…how many hours are in a Deltan day?”

Jax thought a moment, realized he didn’t know the English words, and turned on his translator.

“Twenty-five vargas,” he replied in Deltan, shifting Leola so he could hold her more comfortably, “but I’m not sure of the conversion between those and Earth hours.”

Pidge thought for a second. “It’s about…twenty-six earth hours, give or take an hour.”

“So Deltan days are longer, then,” Jax said.

“Yep. Which would explain why you and Raynia are so tired all the time.”

“I…we…”

“We’ve noticed,” Hunk said.

Jax frowned. “It’s not…it’s not a big deal.”

“Maybe not,” Pidge said. “But the castle time is set to Altean time, which is very similar to Earth’s. Deltan days are longer, which means you and Raynia are constantly off-schedule.”

“We didn’t want to cause a disturbance by having a different schedule,” Jax said, glancing between the Paladins.

“But you’re hurting yourselves,” Pidge said, and the others nodded. “I’ve got a couple digital watches I can reprogram. I can set the alarms to go off at specific times. If you two readjust your sleep schedule, it should be easier on you guys. Especially on Raynia. And Leola, well…” She smiled at the baby. “She kinda does her own thing, which is fine.”

Jax took a breath. “I understand,” he said. “We did not want to cause problems.”

“You won’t be,” Keith said. “Honestly, Jax, we’re here to help you.”

“Yeah, ‘defenders of the universe’ doesn’t just mean fighting robots and Zarkon,” Lance said. He leaned forward and brushed a bit of Leola’s hair out of her face. “It also means helping you guys get back on your feet.”

Jax looked between the Paladins, at their smiling faces and open expressions. He felt a lump form in his throat, and he held his sleeping daughter tighter.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le fael: Thank you (Literal: [reverential] You are generous) (taken from http://www.arwen-undomiel.com)


	3. Chapter 3

_14 Years Later_

“Blink! Get out of there!”

Jax craned his neck, looking at one of the engine turbines of his little ship. Blink—a sapphire blue cat about a foot tall and two feet long, with six-inch bioluminescent whiskers—simply looked at him, not even moving from where he’d curled up inside the warm, small space.

Blink (named such because he moved so fast, you’d miss him if you blinked) had started out as a stray that kept yowling outside of Jax’s window until his elder daughter had fed it. Then it yowled at the front door, as if demanding to be an indoor cat as opposed to being relegated outside. The one time Jax had permitted the cat to stay inside, it had gotten into his room. He’d sneezed his head off and booted the cat out in the early morning hours.

“If you don’t get out of there, you’re going to die and make a mess of my engine when I turn it on,” Jax snapped. “Now get out!”

The cat didn’t move.

“Fine. Your funeral.” Jax stormed back to the entrance of the ship, the afternoon sun glinting off the freshly washed metal. He squinted and walked up the ramp into the shuttle and plopped in the pilot’s seat. He started flicking switches, priming the ship to start. Sudden motion outside the ship caught his eye: Blink had dashed out of the engine and ran across the grass in front of ship.

“That’s what I thought,” Jax muttered. He powered up the engines. The initial thrusters turned on without a hitch, and Jax nodded with satisfaction. A full day of repairs had proven fruitful. He turned off the engines and locked down the console.

Light laughter outside the ship brought a smile to his face, and he stepped out of his silver, semi-triangular craft to see his two daughters approaching, Blink weaving between their legs and almost tripping Leola. His youngest, Tari, looked to be about to hand the cat some of her food.

“Tari! Don’t feed the cat your food!” Jax called.

Tari looked up at him, but she’d dropped the food a split second before Jax had said anything. Blink wolfed down the food, and Jax was _positive_ the cat had smirked at him. He sighed.

“How was school?” Jax asked as his daughters met him in the shipyard. The afternoon sun glinted off the ships in the huge field, and Leola shaded her eyes as she squinted at their small craft.

“Good,” she replied. Jax noticed she stood tense. They both wore their weapons strapped to their backs over their gray school uniforms—Tari with a collapsible electric staff and Leola with traditional twin swords—and Jax remembered their combat competition that afternoon. He opened his mouth to ask how it went, but Tari beat him to it, digging a ribbon out of her pocket and showing it to him.

“I got third place in my weapons class!” she announced proudly.

“That’s excellent!” Jax said, taking the ribbon and looking at it. “Leola, how did you do?”

Leola shoved her hands into her jacket pockets. “Ninth,” she said, so quietly Jax almost didn’t hear her.

Jax frowned. “Ninth?”

“Yeah.”

Tari bounced a little. “I’m going to run ahead, Ada, I have to go to the bathroom.”

“You want your ribbon back?” Jax asked. Tari had already made it a few steps away, and she half turned to Jax.

“Can you hang on to it, please?” she replied. Jax nodded and stuck it in his pocket. Tari turned and ran towards home, followed by Blink.

Leola brushed some of the strands of hair that had snuck out of her braid out of her face, looked resolutely ahead, and started walking.

“Leola, stay here for a bit. I need your help carrying some tools inside the ship,” Jax said.

“Okay,” Leola said. She followed Jax towards the craft and started putting the rivets that had been strewn around on the ground back in their box.

“Leola, what happened at the competition today?” Jax asked. “You’ve been training for years now; I think you can do better than ninth place.”

“I don’t know, Ada,” Leola replied. “I just…got scared.”

“Scared of what?”

Leola took a breath. “Scared I might hurt someone.”

“It’s combat training, Leola. Accidents happen.”

“I know.” Leola shrugged. “I just…I got into the ring, and this was the first time we used _real_ weapons against each other, and…I was scared I was going to hurt my opponents, so I backed off.”

“I see.” Jax put the plasma drill into his tool bag. “Leola, did you know that when you were a baby you were so small your head fit perfectly in my hand?” Jax held out his hand, cupped slightly, to demonstrate. “Even before you were born, I was afraid of having a youngling, because I knew how little and fragile you’d be. I was _very_ scared I’d hurt you.”

Leola tilted her head at him. “You were?”

“Oh, aye. But you know what?”

“What?”

“When you were stolen away from your mother and me, I _had_ to get over my fear in order to get you back. And even after that, I was still a little scared. But your mother and I had a daughter to raise, and I couldn’t just _not_ help her because I was afraid.” Jax snapped the tool bag shut. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You can’t _not_ do something just because you’re scared.”

“I understand,” Leola said, ducking her head.

“I know you’re afraid. Combat training is indeed frightening. But you’ve been training for years, now; you _know_ how to use those swords. You need to get out there and prove to yourself that you _can_ do it. Don’t let the fact that it’s a competition, instead of just practice, deter you.”

“Yes, Ada.”

Jax glanced at the ship. “One day—and I dearly hope it never happens—but one day you might be in a _real_ fight. The universe is still a dangerous place. I trained you and Tari so that you would know how to protect yourselves. You _have_ to get over your fears in a real fight, or else you won’t make it out alive.”

"I understand, Ada," Leola said. She looked up at Jax. "If someone drops out, or doesn't make it for whatever reason, then I'll get to compete in the finals," she offered with a shrug.

"That's good," Jax said. He smiled a little. "Come on, let's get home."

They put the tools inside the ship and walked down the street. The sun set behind white trees—one of the few things on the refugee planet that reminded Jax of Delta. Their house sat between that of another Deltan family and a young El-Aurian couple. But the Deltan family had never even _been_ to Delta, the parents having been born on off-planet military bases that had seen little to no activity, and their twin boys having been born here on the planet Epsilon a few years ago. The parents had babysat Tari and Leola many a time when the girls were younger, and Tari and Leola now returned the favor, babysitting the twins at least once a week.

"How was school?" Jax asked, only realizing once the words were out of his mouth that he'd already asked that question.

"It was fine," Leola said. "The new mathematics instructor is nice. She's El-Aurian, too. Her translator broke today, though, so we got out of class early."

Jax nodded. He taught human English at the school, and knew how big of a deal it was if an instructor's translator malfunctioned. The instructor’s words would be translated into the students’ native language through the earpieces students wore. But for his class, Jax required his students set their translators to _not_ translate English, forcing the students to learn to speak the language rather than just listen to a dubbed version of it.

He'd taken the past two days off to work on the ship, and it was now ready for their trip to Nimbus III tomorrow. The desert planet was like one of the dark alleys of the galaxy, filled with wanted criminals and the bounty hunters who sought them. But it was also a great place to find parts for cheap. Galran manufacturing had seen a horrible decline since the peace treaty twelve years ago, and no one wanted to deal directly with them, not even Jax. What remained of the Galra empire was a poor, struggling, dangerous group of people, half of them willing to fight to reclaim the "glory" they once had, and the other half simply wanting to get on with life. It was impossible to know who was who, and so any Galran merchant was heavily scrutinized at best, and threatened with death at worst. Jax merely bought parts from merchants who'd found the reputable Galra and had built up a steady trade system with them.

They neared their home, a little two-story building with plenty of yard and yet within shouting distance of the neighbors. It was what Jax and Raynia had always wanted: a safe, quiet place to raise their children.

It had come at a cost, though. Jax shook his head, the memory a little ache in his chest that came and went almost too fast to process. He supposed it was better than almost doubling over whenever a memory would spark in his mind and burn him alive with grief before he could get himself together.

"Ada, I'm all ready to go for tomorrow," Tari announced when they'd entered the house.

"Me too," Leola added.

Jax nodded, looking between the eager faces of his daughters. There had been a time when he'd been deathly afraid of never seeing those faces again. When he'd clutched baby Tari close to his chest and held Leola's hand so tight she'd started crying. When he'd been shaking from shell-shock and sleep deprivation and a grief so intense it took his breath away, made it practically impossible to even _think._ When he'd been burning with a hot desire for revenge against the Galra, only to be told days later that the treaty had been signed, and that there was nothing he could do but move on.

He put his hands in his pocket, feeling Tari's third place ribbon, and knowing Leola had no ribbon to her name. The same bone-chilling fear snuck through his veins, and he swallowed.

"Girls," he said. Tari and Leola were rummaging around in the kitchen. He stood in the doorway, and they paused and looked at him.

"I think it might be best if you both stay home tomorrow, instead of coming with me."

Tari's smile fell, and Leola gaped at him. Their cries of dismay followed a split second later.

"Why?"

Jax took a steadying breath. "Nimbus Three is _incredibly_ dangerous. And while third place is excellent, Tari, and Leola, I _know_ you're better with the swords than you were today... your skills have a long way to go before you're ready to come with me."

"But Ada..." Leola set a pan on the counter. "You said it was more than just being able to fight that would keep us safe. You said fighting was our last resort."

"Yeah!" Tari piped in. "You said that if we keep our noses out of trouble, no trouble would come to us. And we can do that, Ada! We're not going to go looking for the worst junk dealer and steal stuff from him."

Leola nodded in agreement. "We're _good fighters,_ Ada, but we know how to keep our heads about us." The pan wobbled on the counter—Leola had set it too close to the edge. Jax jumped a little, watching it fall, but Leola reached back without even looking and caught it. She smiled at Jax. "See?"

Jax looked at them. They were smart and brave, he _knew_ that. He _knew_ how well they could fight, because he had trained them himself and seen their skill with his own eyes.

But Raynia's skill level had far surpassed the girls', and that hadn't saved her.

Jax shook his head. That was irrational thinking, plain and simple. An explosion was not stopped with mere swords.

"All right," he said, hearing the tired strain in his voice. "You both can come."

Both girls rushed forward and hugged him. Jax hugged them back. "Everything I said still applies, though!" he said. He pulled back and stooped a little so he was at eye level with them. "You both will do _exactly_ as I say. And you will _not_ wander the market by yourselves. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ada," Leola replied.

"Clear as day," Tari said, grinning a little. She had the same impish grin as her mother, one that never failed to draw even a meager smile from Jax.

"Good," Jax said. "Run along with whatever you were doing."

"We're fixing supper," Leola said, putting the pan on the stove.

"Ah! Thank you," Jax said. He sat down at the table and turned on his holographic communicator. The screen flickered on and projected from the palm-sized operating system onto the table. He swiped through missed memos from the school and one recipe Leola had accidentally sent to his communicator instead of hers. He sent it to her, then looked up at the girls. They talked fast, occasionally working in English phrases and trying to stump each other. The kitchen grew warm with the heat of the cooking food, and Leola cracked open the window, letting in the sweet smell of the white trees that bloomed in the yard. Jax smiled, leaned back in his seat a little, and returned his eyes to his communicator.

* * *

 

_Fire._

_The flames tore through the ship, only a floor beneath them and rising fast. Jax's footsteps clanged on the metal, drowned by the steps of the crowd surging through the hall, running for the airlock. One arm clutched his two-year-old close, the other in a death grip on his four-year-old's wrist, practically carrying her too. Raynia was in the corner of his eye, weaving and dodging the crowd, helping others along._

_And then, suddenly, she wasn't there. Jax craned his head, almost tripping, searching frantically for her._

_"Raynia!"_

_"Go! I'll catch up!"_

_Jax strained his eyes through the smoke; Leola coughed and wheezed, and suddenly the crowd pushed them through the airlock door onto the other ship._

_"Raynia!"_

_No answer._

_The crowd was rushed away from the door, the door slammed shut and the light blinked red._

_"WAIT!!"_

_There's no time, they said. We have to go now, or else this ship will also be destroyed._

_Jax shoved his way through the crowd, calling his wife's name over and over, the scent of smoke still strong on his jacket, still burning in his eyes._

_And Raynia nowhere to be seen._

_He found himself at a window. One of the medical personnel gently took his daughters from him to the medbay only a few feet away._

_Orange and red flames blooming in the starry expanse snapped his attention back to the window. Jax's heart seized up, wrenching in his chest. He scanned the debris, searching for an escape pod, a shuttle,_ something _—_

_The ship tearing apart, the flames engulfing it, destroying it, with no sound in the vacuum of space._

_Jax stood rigid, his throat choked up, his eyes burning, his hands shaking, his chest a wrench of pain._

_Must be strong... must be strong..._

_Raynia..._

_He fell to his knees, an anguished wail tearing itself from his throat._

Jax sat bolt upright, breathing hard, fists tight around the blankets. Sweat tickled his brow, and he furiously scrubbed at his eyes. No tears this time, but the pain of that day was still far too real in his chest. He clenched the blanket tight, forcing his breath to slow, refusing to look at the empty space beside him. It was late, and the last thing he wanted was to accidentally wake his daughters up with his nightmares. He dearly hoped he hadn't made a noise. The house remained quiet and still.

Finally, _finally_ , his breaths slowed to something a little less frantic and shaky. Jax swallowed and shoved himself out of bed. His feet hit the cold floor, anchoring him to the moment. _I'm home, I'm safe, the girls are safe..._

Jax stepped silently into the hall and walked towards the girls' rooms. He poked his head inside Tari's room. His youngest slept soundly, her dark hair splayed all over the pillow as she snored. He moved to Leola’s room.

Leola lay curled up tight in her bed. Her face was relaxed, her eyes shut, but... she lay a little too stiffly. Jax gently brushed some hair out of her face.

Leola sat up quickly, wrapping her arms tight around Jax in a hug. Jax froze for a split second, startled. He returned the hug, sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his daughter close.

"You okay?" he asked, surprised at how tight his voice sounded.

"Yeah," she said, her voice very small. She paused. "Were you dreaming about Mama?" she asked quietly.

Jax sighed. He looked out of Leola's window, at the moonlight on the white trees.

"Yes," he said finally.

"I dream about her too, sometimes," Leola said, pulling away and looking down at her hands. "I dream she's still alive, and we're walking to school, or we're cooking together, or we're racing in the shipyard with Tari." She swallowed. "I miss her, Ada. I don't remember her very much, but I miss her."

"I know. I miss her, too."

Leola rubbed her eye. "It's been twelve years," she muttered, and Jax heard the unspoken frustration in her tone. She wanted a mother; both she and Tari had wanted a mother when they were little. But Jax hadn't been able to find another Deltan woman he loved in the same way he'd loved Raynia, and he doubted he ever would. A pang of guilt settled in his stomach, and he looked back out the window.

"Is it okay to miss someone after twelve years?" Leola asked softly, almost timidly.

Jax looked back at her, surprised. "Of course," he said. "It's more than okay. It's part of life." He took a breath. "It's a part of life none of us wanted, but we're learning to live with it. Some days will be easier than others. That's just the way it is."

"Well, that's a relief," Leola said, a rueful tone sneaking into her voice. Her shoulders slumped, and she paused. The spring breeze wafted in through her cracked window, rustling in the leaves outside.

"It's okay that we never had a…another mother," she whispered finally, twisting her blanket in her hands. "I never really wanted anyone but Mama, anyway."

Jax shook his head. "It's not okay," he said. "You needed a mother, and the best you had was the neighbors." He sighed. "Sometimes there's things a parent wishes he could give his children, but he just can't."

Leola hugged him again, her arms tight around him. "I still love you, Ada," she whispered.

Jax hugged her back. "I'm sorry I woke you. You should get back to sleep."

Leola pulled away and shrugged. "I was already awake," she said. "I-I'm a little nervous about the trip tomorrow."

Jax nodded. He and Leola had discussed giving her the controls for part of the trip and letting her fly the easy portions. It would be her first time flying outside the simulator.

"I understand," Jax said. "But I'll be right beside you the whole time. If anything goes wrong, I'll take back the controls. Okay?"

"All right."

Jax smiled at her. "You'll do just fine tomorrow. I’m sure of it. Try not to think about it too much and get some sleep."

Leola snuggled under her covers and Jax stood. He glanced out the window at the moon, before silently returning to his own room. He lay awake for a good half-hour, thinking over the happier times he and Raynia had had when their children were small. Like when he came downstairs from the top half of their first shuttle to find Raynia making faces at Leola and their one-year-old laughing with that deep belly laugh babies have. Jax had almost fallen over, laughing so hard he hadn't been able to breathe. Or when Tari was born, and little Leola held her baby sister for the first time. Or when Jax had sang to his girls, lulling them to sleep, and feeling Raynia rest her head on his shoulder, her own eyelids drooping in tired contentment. Or when he'd been burning with a fever all day and hadn't been able to sleep himself, and Raynia had softly sang the same lullaby to him.

Jax fell asleep, the lullaby floating gently through his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

“I thought you girls said you were ready!” Jax called. He stood at the open door of their home as the rising sun peeked through the windows. From the yard, Blink meowed and barreled towards the open door. Jax only just managed to stop the cat with his foot. “Oh, no, you don’t. You’re staying outside.” 

“I am ready!” Tari protested, thundering down the stairs two at a time. She had her satchel slung over her shoulder and her collapsible bo staff strapped to her back. She glanced up the stairs at Leola, who followed a few steps behind. 

“Sorry, Ada,” Leola said. “I couldn’t find my jacket—Oh, come on, Tari. Give it back.” 

“I didn’t know you were going to wear it!” Tari protested. 

Leola scowled. “It’s my favorite jacket, of course I’m going to wear it! Here.” She took her own jacket off and tossed it at Tari. 

“I’m not wearing this, it’s ugly,” Tari said. 

“Just give me back my jacket!” 

“ _Girls,_ ” Jax warned. “Tari, give Leola back her jacket and run upstairs and grab your own.” 

 _“_ Okay,” Tari relented, pulling the jacket off and giving it to Leola. She bolted upstairs, hurling Leola’s "ugly" jacket over a chair as she ran. 

“Leola!” Tari called after a minute. “Where did you put my jacket!” 

“I didn’t touch it!” 

Jax sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

* * *

 

They made it to the shipyard a good fifteen minutes later, the morning sun blinding and the air crisp, though a hint of warmth in the wind heralded the coming of summer. Their ship sat under a force field “bubble” that protected it from rain and wind and the rare thief. Jax stepped from the grass to the duracrete pad the ship sat on and palmed the input panel engrained in the shimmering particle beams. The force field disappeared. They climbed into the silver craft; Leola and Tari stashed their weapons and satchels in the cabin they shared while Jax readied the ship for take-off. Leola returned and sat in the co-pilot’s seat, while Tari buckled up in the seat behind her. 

“You ready?” Jax asked. 

Leola swallowed. “Yes.” 

“Good. You’re going to be manning the comms, and after we take off, you’ll fly the stretches before and after the hyperspace jump. I'll land us on Nimbus Three.” 

“Sounds good.” She reached up to fix her hair, and Jax noticed her hands trembled. She paused, and glanced back at Tari. “Is the stove off?” 

Tari crossed her arms. “Well, you never even turned it on this morning, and you checked it maybe five times already. So yeah, I’d say it’s off.” 

“Tari,” Jax warned, flicking switches on the console.  

“Sorry,” Tari muttered. Leola looked back to the front. 

“It’s good to check, but there’s no need to go overboard,” Jax added. He flicked a few switches and the primary engines started. “Go ahead and hail planetary control.” 

Leola turned on the comms. “Attention Epsilon Tower Eight-Niner," she said, her voice tight.    
"This is Hyperspace Engine Craft Two-Niner-Alpha, call sign _Red Five_ , requesting permission to exit the atmosphere.” 

“Copy that _Red Five_ ,” the controller at the tower replied. “I’ll have a clear airspace trajectory for you in about five minutes. Proceed to takeoff point.” 

“Understood,” Leola said, her voice noticeably more relaxed. Jax retracted the brakes, and the ship rolled forward across the duracrete path towards the main tarmac. One or two other ships were already in line, awaiting their turn to exit Epsilon’s atmosphere.  

A few minutes passed, then, “ _Red Five,_ you are cleared for takeoff.”  

“Copy that,” Leola said. Jax turned the thrusters on full, shooting them across the tarmac and up, up, up into the sky. The g-forces pressed them all into their seats, and the city below grew smaller and smaller, until it was lost in the green and brown expanse of the continent they lived on. Within moments, Jax saw the curvature of the planet below them. Finally, after maybe a minute of enduring g-forces that felt like someone was sitting on his chest, they broke free of Epsilon’s gravity. For a moment Jax’s stomach danced around in the zero gravity, until he flicked on the artificial gravity. 

“ _Red Five_ , you are clear of Epsilon airspace,” the controller said. “Have a safe trip.” 

“Thank you,” Leola said. “ _Red Five_ out.” 

“Good job,” Jax said. “The jump is twenty minutes away,” he reminded Leola. “All you have to do is stay clear of the other planets in this system. Otherwise their gravity will pull us in.” 

“Understood,” Leola said. 

Jax flicked a switch on his right-hand control stick. “You have the con.” 

“I have the con,” Leola acknowledged, her grip tightening on her control sticks. Her eyes narrowed, and her gaze stayed fixed on the stars in front of her. 

“Remember to watch the readouts, too,” Jax said. “And you have windows on either side, and above you. Don’t just focus on what’s in front of you.” 

“Okay.” Leola glanced at the navicomputer, and frowned. “We have two ships on our six o’clock.” 

Jax checked the display. “Just freighters. We’re not in their way. Can you tell me why?” 

Leola squinted at the navicomputer. “Because they’re lower on the z-axis than we are.” 

“Right.” 

Jax kept his hands on his control sticks the entire time Leola flew through the system, and again after the two-hour hyperspace jump. But he found himself relaxing a little during the second half of the trip. Though his eldest sat tense at the controls, she flew remarkably well. 

“Nearing Nimbus Three,” Leola said. “You have the con.” 

“I have the con,” Jax replied, taking over. “Good job.”  

Leola sat back in her seat, a relieved breath escaping her lips. Tari tapped her on the shoulder, and the girls exchanged a quick fist bump. 

“This is Nimbus Three planetary control,” a voice crackled over the comms. “State your call sign and your intention.” 

“ _Red Five_ , requesting permission to land at Dagobah Station for commerce purposes,” Jax said. He frowned. “That’s new,” he muttered. 

“Remain in orbit until we check your credentials,” the controller said. Jax acknowledged, then grew increasingly uneasy as they waited five, then ten, then a full fifteen minutes until the controller came back on. 

“Proceed to Dagobah Station, _Red Five_. Your ship will be scanned for any kind of firearms. Possession of firearms on Nimbus Three is strictly prohibited. Any willful attempt to bring a firearm planetside will result in you and your ship being forcibly detained.” 

“Understood,” Jax replied with a frown. He muted his end of the comms while the scan took place. “They’ve upped security since the last time I was here.” 

“I thought you said this planet didn’t even have a government?” Tari asked, leaning forward to look at the displays. 

“They don’t. And they still don’t, unless something changed in the last two days.” Jax drummed his fingers on the arm of his seat. “But they do have a planet-wide security force, paid for by the Andorians. They don’t want fights breaking out. A lot of gang members show up here, and the odds are pretty good they’d run into their rivals. Hence the firearms ban.” 

Leola frowned. “If they’ve banned firearms, then why is this place still so dangerous?” 

Jax smiled ruefully. “Because somehow, one way or another, someone manages to get a blaster to the surface. Or they’ll ship the pieces for one here, one by one. Or they won’t use firearms at all, and instead resort to hand to hand combat.” Jax shifted in his chair so he could look at both his daughters. “That’s why you’re to keep your weapons on you at all times. You’re not going to go looking for a fight, but you’re going to walk confidently with your heads held high. People here prey on uncertainty, on people who don’t look like they belong. You two _know_ how to fight, and you’re going to look and act like it. That way people will be less likely to bother you.” 

“Yes, Ada,” Leola replied, and Tari nodded. 

“ _Red Five,_ you are clear for landing at Dagobah Station, pad eight,” came the controller’s voice. “Expect a five minute communications blackout, after which we will hail your ship. A no-reply will initiate emergency protocols.” 

“Understood,” Jax said. “ _Red Five_ proceeding to Dagobah Station.” He engaged the thrusters, and the ship plunged into the atmosphere. 

* * *

 

Dagobah Station was practically a deserted wasteland when Jax landed, attended by one humanoid with neon pink skin who didn’t speak Deltan or English. He wasn’t wearing a universal translator either, for whatever reason, but he didn’t really seem to care where Jax parked his ship as he guided him in. He ogled the shining craft and took his sweet time clearing the area after Jax landed. Jax glared at him through the viewscreen and activated the ship’s forcefield. The man then left, shuffling off, looking a little disappointed. Jax wondered if he was even a station attendant, or merely a scout sent by a gang to look for ships easy to steal. But Dagobah Station control hailed him a few minutes later, with a legitimate callsign and a message informing Jax of who to call in case of emergency, and assurance his ship would be safe. Jax shrugged, glanced at the control tower a few hundred yards away, and acknowledged, still intending to leave the force field on.  

Leola stood, and wobbled and almost fell back in her chair. “My legs feel so heavy,” she muttered, using the chair as support.  

“The gravity here is a bit stronger than on Epsilon,” Jax said. “The best way to get used to it is to move around." He stood, not without effort, and moved to the back of the ship. 

“First things first,” Jax said, pulling his satchel from storage and checking its contents. “We’re going to see if my contact has arrived. He’s usually here on time, but there’s been a few instances where I’ve had to wait a few days.” 

“Is that because of the Galra?” Tari asked standing and almost falling on Leola. 

“No,” Jax said. “It’s because of the customs agents at the hyperspace jump ports. Some of the agents will see parts labeled with a Galran manufacturing logo and refuse to let traders through. So, they have to go the long way and find a different jump port, or hitch a ride with someone who has a hyperspace port generator.” Jax strapped his electric bo staff to his back, feeling the sturdy weight of the collapsed staff fit snugly against his spine. “It’s technically not illegal to trade with the Galra. But there are a few people who think it’s their jobs to continue to spread prejudice, despite the treaty. So, they’ll harass people who have anything to do with the Galra.” 

“Oh.” Tari pulled her satchel from storage and slung it over her shoulder. She adjusted her bo staff sheath and stood next to Leola, who had already grabbed her satchel and weapons and stood waiting for Jax and Tari. 

“After we see if my contact is here or not, we can do a little sight-seeing,” Jax said as they made their way to the bottom of the ship. “The market usually has something neat to look at, and there’s a huge canyon about two klicks away.” 

“I’ve got fifty credits saved up, can I buy something?” Tari asked as Jax lowered the ramp to exit the ship. The air outside whooshed in, blowing in a bit of dust with it. Leola sneezed. 

Jax whistled. “That’s a lot of credits. That from your babysitting money?” he asked. Beside him, Leola coughed, shading her eyes and squinting into the sun. 

“Yes,” Tari said, stumbling down the ramp, still not used to the gravity. Jax caught her arm, steadying her. They made it down and Jax closed the ramp. 

“The air is so thick here!” Leola commented. “Feels like I’m drinking dust.” 

“Yeah, it gets like that sometimes,” Jax agreed. “Pull your kerchief over your nose if you need to.” 

Leola obliged, and Tari followed suit, their eyes squinting in the noonday sun. But they stood tall as they walked beside Jax, and he nodded with approval, feeling the sharp edge of his worry soften just a little. 

* * *

 

A ten minute walk later, they reached the market. Leola and Tari’s eyes grew wide at the cacophony of sound. Different languages poured into their translators so fast that sometimes a vendor’s words would get lost in the mix and they would have no idea what was said. An ocean of smells greeted them, too: the tangy stink of animal sweat, the spicy-sweet aroma of cooking food, the flowery, airy scent of desert plants growing unchecked on houses and in abandoned gardens, clinging fiercely to life in the arid climate. Jax and his daughters wove through the crowd, making eye contact with no one, ignoring the vendors’ calls and the one or two nasty shouts directed their way. Security guards stood at almost every hundred yards in the vast marketplace, their allowed blasters held openly in both hands as they eyed the crowd for serious trouble. 

Jax stepped into a plant vendors’ shop, which was a cool stone building housing rare tropical plants that really had no business being out here in the desert. Only with constant, diligent care could these plants survive. Thus the price was set to an astronomical rate, and the shop saw little to no activity. Which made it a perfect place for Jax to meet his contact. 

“Good afternoon, Jax,” the vendor called, stepping out from a room at the rear of the shop. 

Jax smiled at the Arkanian woman who approached. Her white hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and she stood a few inches shorter than Jax. Plant matter stuck to her sleeves, and she brushed her hands on her pants. The silver visor that covered her eyes, and served as her means of seeing the world, beeped. She frowned a little. “I just changed the batteries…” she muttered, pressing a button on the side of the visor. “Ah, here we go. Forgot to reset it.” 

“Good to see you again, Aayla,” Jax said, putting his right fist over his chest and bowing slightly. The girls quickly followed suit. They remained silent, though Jax caught their curious gazes darting all over the shop and at Aayla. 

Aayla waved them off. “You Deltans and your formalities! You will tell me it is pleasant to see me, but you won’t tell me who these two beautiful younglings are?” 

Jax straightened, biting back a smile. “These are my daughters, Leola and Tari.” 

Aayla clasped her hands in glee. “So, you’ve found a wife again, after all these years!” She put her hands on her hips, her tone turning indignant. “And you haven’t told me?” 

“Ah, no, Aayla. They are Raynia’s daughters.” 

“Oh. Well, that would explain why they’re so old.” 

Leola, who'd wandered a bit with Tari to look at the plants, caught Jax’s eye and shot him a confused look. Jax shook his head at her. 

“Aayla, has your husband returned yet?” Jax asked. 

“No, he hasn’t. He sent me a message yesterday…oh, where is it…” She activated something on her visor, projecting a holographic display in front of her. Jax watched her swipe through message after message; he tried to avoid reading them, but he couldn’t help noticing there were a lot of complaints from customers who’d bought her plants, only to have them die a few days later. 

“Ah! Here it is.” Aayla pulled up a message and flipped it so Jax could read it. Her husband, Gaius, had been delayed at customs again, and would arrive on Nimbus Three in two days. 

“You are welcome to stay at my house while you wait,” Aayla said as she closed the screen. 

“That is all right, Aayla,” Jax replied, “but we thank you for your offer.” 

“Anytime,” Aayla replied. “Girls, would either of you like a flower?” She plucked a few white blossoms off a cactus-like plant. “These are the only ones that won’t wither in the heat. Here,” she stepped towards Leola, and Jax noticed his daughter couldn’t help but flinch a bit. But she didn't retreat, and Aayla tucked the flower into her braid. She did the same with Tari, and stepped back to admire her handiwork. “Oh, you girls must take a lot after your mother,” she said. “She must have been beautiful.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Leola said, smiling a little, and Tari echoed the sentiment. 

“They do indeed,” Jax said. “We must be going now; please have Gaius call me when he arrives.” 

“Of course, of course,” Aayla said. “Goodbye! Be careful; they’re expecting a dust storm at some point this week.” 

“We will,” Jax said with a courteous smile. He turned to go, letting the girls leave the shop first. 

“Oh! Jax,” Aayla said, pulling him back into the shop. She rose on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “I heard a young Deltan woman just started at the clinic half a klick away. Apparently she’s very pretty.” 

“I-I will keep that in mind,” Jax said, carefully extricating himself from Aayla and stepping out of the shop. He shook his head, shrugging off her words and the familiar feeling of passing grief. Aayla meant well, but she couldn’t know how deep her words stung. 

“How did she know about Mama?” Tari demanded once they were out of earshot. 

“I’ve been working with Gaius for several years, now,” Jax said. “I told him and Aayla, a long time ago. I told them about you two as well, but Aayla has a bit of a memory problem.” 

“Oh,” Tari said. 

“Hey, look!” Leola exclaimed, pointing towards a different stall holding various kinds of weaponry. They meandered towards it, the conversation forgotten. 

* * *

 

The afternoon passed quickly, with Jax and his daughters looking at the various vendors and watching the occasional street performer. But Jax’s guard remained up: while the market appeared to be relatively safe, the ominous figures in the alleyways did not escape his notice. He knew he had no dealings with any gang whatsoever, and had only been mugged once in all of his previous trips to Nimbus Three. And he’d been able to fight off the muggers with ease until the Andorian security forces arrived. 

They’d split up for a moment; Jax had to use the restroom and had left Leola and Tari near a few food vendors. He returned to find the girls sharing the contents of a brown glass bottle and giggling. 

“Try this, Ada,” Leola said when Jax approached. 

“What’s it?” Jax asked, taking the bottle from Tari. 

“I dunno, but it’s good!” Tari replied. “It’s…it’s like drinking a galaxy.” 

Leola giggled. “That’s one way to put it.” 

Jax frowned at them and took a cautious sip of the liquid. It fizzed in his mouth, bubbles popping and dancing on his tongue and against the inside of his cheeks, in a way he’d never felt before. His eyebrows raised, and he swallowed. It tasted fruity and sweet. 

“Wow,” he said, looking at the bottle. He couldn’t make out what the label said; it was in a foreign language he couldn’t place. “What did the store owner say it was called?” 

Leola glanced at Tari. “Fizzy Goodness, or something.” She shrugged at Jax. “I dunno, I don’t think it translated.” 

“Hm.” Jax took another sip. It _was_ good. Suddenly he hiccupped, startling both himself and the girls. Leola and Tari burst into laughter. Jax hiccupped again, and Leola laughed so hard she stumbled into her sister. 

“That’s enough for me, I think,” Jax said, handing the bottle back to Tari. She grinned and took another sip. Jax watched the girls giggle, a small smile on his face. Tari handed the bottle to Leola, who finished it off. 

A thought hit him. “Leola, let me see that.” Leola obliged, hiccupping a little herself, which sent both girls into another fit of half-stifled laughter. 

Jax pulled his research tricorder from his satchel and scanned the label. 

“Can you read it, Ada?” Leola asked. 

“Not yet. But…I’m wondering if this stuff isn’t intoxicating.” He fought back another hiccup. The last thing he needed was for his girls to have accidentally gotten ahold of some kind of alien liquor. 

“It’s not intoxicating,” a nearby vendor called. Jax glanced up. He caught a glimpse of the vendor between passersby. Her dark hair draped over her shoulder, and for a split second his heart lurched in hopeful half-recongnition before he caught himself. 

 _Stop_ _it_. Jax took a breath, knowing that the vendor wasn't Raynia, _couldn't_ be Raynia. It was these almost-recognitions that hurt the most, fleeting though they were. 

The crowd cleared a bit, and the vendor waved Jax over. 

“What is it, then?” Jax asked, holding up the bottle and beckoning his daughters to follow. 

“It’s just a carbonated beverage. Like juice, only with more sugar.” The vendor nodded towards the jovial girls with a smile. “Might explain their behavior. On Earth, they call it a sugar rush.” 

“Oh, we’re familiar with that,” Jax said, chuckling. “How much do you know about Earth?” 

“Only what’s been published from the press,” the shopkeeper replied. “But I’ve tried to replicate a lot of their foods. Here,” she grabbed a bag of tan, oval shaped objects about half the size of Jax’s thumb. “They call these peanuts on Earth. These aren’t exactly the same, but they’re still a type of nut. And they look and taste almost the same.” 

“How much?” Jax asked, a bemused smile playing across his lips. 

“Two credits a bag.” 

“Not bad,” Jax said, debating on getting them. “You girls want some peanuts?” he asked Leola and Tari. 

“Yes, please,” they replied. 

Jax fished in his satchel for the credits, not wanting to use his electronic payment for such a small purchase. 

“Here, I’ve got it, Ada,” Leola said, digging two credits out of her own satchel and handing them to Jax. 

“Thanks,” Jax said. He paid the woman, took the bag, and they walked a few meters away from the stall. 

“Let’s see what _these_ taste like,” Jax said. He opened the bag, and the girls each took a handful. 

“Huh,” Leola said, tilting her head a little as she chewed. Tari popped two in her mouth. Her eyes widened, and she wolfed down a few more. 

“These are so good!” Tari exclaimed. 

Jax swallowed. “They are pretty good,” he agreed. 

They ate a few more “peanuts,” watching the crowd go by as the sun set. 

Tari coughed, and Jax glanced at her. She’d stopped eating and was standing still, frowning as she massaged her throat. 

“You choking, Tari?” Jax asked. 

Tari shook her head, but didn’t reply. She sucked in a breath, and it wheezed. Alarm bells rang in Jax’s mind, and he shoved the bag of nuts into his satchel. 

“Tari, what’s wrong?” he said. 

“I…can’t…breathe…” she gasped, her voice tight and strained. She looked up at Jax, her eyes wide. 

“Spit out the nuts,” Jax ordered. “Leola, get the medikit out.” 

Tari spat, but she’d already swallowed whatever had been in her mouth. Leola frantically rummaged through her satchel. “Ada, I thought you had the medikit!” she exclaimed. 

Jax dug through his own satchel. “No, I don’t have it! I told you to grab it!” 

“Ada…” Tari reached for him, wobbling. 

“There’s a medical center not far from here,” Leola said. Jax remembered passing it. He scooped up Tari, satchel and all, just as she collapsed. Tari clung to him weakly, her breath wheezing and gasping. 

“Come on!” Jax barked at Leola. He dodged people and passerby, almost running into multiple people. The line to the medical center was short, but packed around the door. 

“ _Move!_ ” Jax barked, using the commanding tone he used to use on his soldiers. People jumped and scurried out of the way. Jax stormed into the medical center, startling doctors and nurses in the dingy hall. 

“My daughter is sick!” he exclaimed, making eye contact with the first professional person he saw. “She’s having an allergic reaction!”  

The woman’s eyes widened over her surgical mask. “Come with me,” she said—in Deltan, Jax noticed vaguely—and led them quickly through the center to a room. Jax laid Tari down on the bed, and his heart seized up when he saw that she’d completely passed out, lying limp on the bed. 

“She needs a shot of epinephrine,” the woman said. She rummaged through the supply cupboard, yanking out a hypospray and readying it with quick, practiced movements. She applied the hypospray directly on Tari’s neck. It hissed, and then the only sound in the room was Tari’s short, ragged breaths. Jax stood rigid, watching his daughter. 

The woman stuck her head out into the hall. “Dr. Krennick! Please come here! We have a case of severe anaphylactic shock!” 

Tari’s breaths slowed to something more deep and even, and her eyes fluttered open. She blinked at the ceiling, then glanced around the room, her eyes landing on Jax. “Ada?” she croaked out, her voice painfully hoarse. 

Jax’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I’m here, Tari,” he murmured, stepping forward and taking her hand. He brushed some hair out of her face, the weight of his relief almost overwhelming. 

“What just happened?” Tari squeaked. 

“I think you’re allergic to those peanuts,” Jax said, shaking his head with a small smile. 

“Oh.” 

“You okay, Tari?” Leola asked, her voice pitched high and scared. Jax glanced at her; she stood a few feet away, tense, as if afraid to move. 

“Yeah,” Tari said. 

“What did she eat?” the woman asked, returning to the room. 

“These,” Jax said, letting go of Tari’s hand and straightening. He dug in his satchel for the bag, and handed the “peanuts” to the woman. 

“Oh, yes, these aren’t actually peanuts, as you probably know,” the woman said. “They’re a Galran tree nut. We get a lot of people in here with allergies to these.” 

“I see,” Jax said. He pulled out his research tricorder, intending to look up the tree nut, in case it was in any of the other food he’d bought for the girls to eat later. 

“What is it, Raynia?” a male voice asked. Jax jumped at the name, and glanced up sharply. The woman had her back turned to him, and Jax’s heart thudded in his chest. That dark hair, the tan skin looked so _familiar…_  

 _It’s not her…stop it_ _!_ _I_ _t’s not her_ _!_  

The woman pulled down her surgical mask and explained to Dr. Krennick what had happened. She turned to Tari to check on her, and Jax couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips, nor how his trembling hands dropped the tricorder to the floor with a loud clatter. The woman looked up at him, startled. 

“ _Raynia?”_ Jax asked in spite of himself, his voice a strained whisper. 

“…That is my name, yes,” the woman replied, backing up a little. 

“Ada?” Leola asked, her voice wavering even more. Tari pushed herself up, looking between Jax and Raynia. 

Jax swallowed, eyes locked on the woman. “You are…Deltan?” 

“Yes,” she said, standing stiff and wary. 

“Ada,” Leola said, pleading. 

“And your name is Raynia,” Jax said. 

“Yes. And you are?” 

Jax’s chest seized up, the relief at seeing Tari safe and sound turning into an anguish that stomped on his heart, leaving it aching and pounding hard. He stared at Raynia, silently pleading with her to recognize him, to realize that he was her husband, _these are our daughters—_  

“Ada, it’s not her,” Leola said. She sounded on the verge of tears. 

"I am called Jax," he said, desperate for a flash of regognition in her eyes, _something—_  

“I assure you, I don’t know who you are.” Raynia said. “My apologies.” 

Jax swallowed. “I…I’m sorry.” He forced himself back to reality, forced himself to _move._ He stooped and snatched up his tricorder. “You…look exactly like someone I used to know.” 

“I gathered that. Dr. Krennick, do you need me for anything else? 

“No, Raynia, you may go.” 

Raynia nodded. “Good day to you,” she said. She turned and left quickly, and it was everything Jax could do to not run after her. 

The antannaed, blue-skinned Andorian doctor checked Tari’s eyes, listened to her heart and lungs, and pronounced her fit. Jax finally put his tricorder away and helped Tari stand. She leaned heavily against him on their way out, and once he’d paid for the treatment and they’d left the clinic, he stooped so she could climb on his back and carried her piggy-back style. She rested her head on his shoulder, and Jax heard her breaths slow as she fell asleep. 

Leola remained silent the entire walk back to the ship. Jax glanced down at her; her face was stone, and she gazed steadily ahead, carrying both her and her sister’s satchels. 

They walked up the ramp into the ship, and Jax laid Tari to sleep on the cushioned bench in the eating area so he could keep an eye on her. Leola plopped down at the table and dropped the satchels on the floor.  

Jax leaned against a storage locker, arms crossed, lost in thought. That woman had looked _so much_ like Raynia. He’d watched old video clips for _years_ , and that woman had had the same hair, voice, skin, eyes… 

“It wasn’t her, Ada,” Leola said. Jax looked up; she sat staring at him, an imploring, pleading look on her face. “It just…looked like her.” She swallowed. 

Jax sighed. “I know.” He pulled a hand down his face. “I just…I was surprised, is all.” 

“You literally watched her ship explode,” Leola said, her voice hard and bitter. “Why would you think it was her? She doesn’t even know who we are.” 

Jax looked at Leola, who sat perfectly still, now glaring at the table and fighting off tears. 

“I’m sorry, Leola,” he said finally. 

Leola rubbed her eye and said nothing. 

Jax stepped closer and sat next to her. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did when I saw Ray—when I saw the nurse.” 

“I miss her too, Ada,” Leola said. “But she’s gone.” 

Jax sighed again, long and deep. “I know, Little One,” he murmured. “I know.” 

But the nurse’s face remained in his mind’s eye. Her smart eyes, her commanding voice, the way she braided her hair... they were all so much like Raynia that it physically _hurt_. 

“What do you want for supper?” Jax asked finally. 

“Not those peanuts,” came Tari’s voice. Jax glanced over at her; she’d sat up and was yawning, running a hand through her tangled hair. Leola laughed a little, and Jax felt a small, tired smile sneak across his face. 


End file.
